


Things Left Unsaid

by jordypordy



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: AU, F/M, Light Final Fantasy VII Spoilers, Post Advent Children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7882150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jordypordy/pseuds/jordypordy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Advent Children AU where Geostigma no longer is spreading, but those suffering from it weren't cured.</p><p>As Cloud's Geostigma advances into the later stages of the illness, Tifa tries to cope with the impending loss of her best friend.</p><p>Rewritten and re-uploaded on 9/26/16</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Left Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> (Updated 9/26/16)
> 
> Heeeey so I was really unsatisfied with how this came out originally, so I went to rewrite it. I ended up rewriting almost the entire thing (and by that I mean literally only the first few paragraphs are the same as the original upload) and I’m immensely more satisfied with how it came out. I hope you enjoy it as well.

In the months since Sephiroth had been defeated for the second time, and hopefully last, new cases of Geostigma all but stopped appearing. This had been viewed as a heavenly light at the end of a two year long tunnel for many people as they no longer had to worry about being stricken with the plague, but for many it felt like a cruel joke. As families embraced in blissful contentment, having not to worry about the safety of their loved ones, other families wept at the bedside of their children, spouses, and friends and stayed awake late at night praying in vain for a cure.

For the first time in two years, it once again became a common sight to see people walking down the street in shorts, t-shirts, tank-tops. Although the general population had known Geostigma wasn’t contagious, people would still dress conservatively in a way to protect themselves. It made them feel in control. Now, they didn’t need that faux sense of comfort.

Denzel returned to the Planet two months after Sephiroth fell. He was a trooper, lasting much longer than other children his age. In between delivery jobs, if Cloud wasn’t helping Tifa run the bar, he would spend his time with Denzel. When he was still strong enough to walk, Cloud would spend hours teaching him sword fighting techniques with sticks and feigning defeat in the duels they would have. If a delivery was particularly close to Edge, Denzel would tag along. When he could no longer walk and was bedridden, Cloud would sit by his bedside telling heroic tales of AVALANCHE’s quest to stop Meteor, sometimes exaggerating to make him smile or laugh.

“You know, Cloud,” Tifa said nonchalantly as they cleaned the bar after a busy night, “you’d be a great dad.” The ex-mercenary didn’t respond.

He was buried near the church.

Shortly after, Barret announced that he and Marlene would be moving to Kalm. “I need to get her away from a place so closely tied with death.” Neither Cloud nor Tifa objected; they both had noticed a shift in Marlene’s mood after the death of her close friend. On the way out, Barret placed a firm hand on Cloud’s shoulder. “If anyone can beat this thing, it’s you.” Cloud had grasped his marked arm and avoided Barret’s gaze.

Things stayed quiet after that. Cloud kept up his delivery service, keeping as stoic as ever. But Tifa noticed moments of weakness. A sudden sharp intake of breath, the tension of muscles, the furrow of his brow and gritting of the teeth. She never bothered to express concern; she knew he would brush it off.

As the remaining people with the stigma began to slowly die off, those who still survived became the topic of conversation Tifa heard frequently in the Seventh Heaven. Usually discussing family members who were close to death’s doors, she usually blocked out her patron’s conversations. Until they started talking about something too close to home.

“Doesn’t that spiky haired guy have it?” A hushed whisper said one night.

“The blond dude?” His companion said after a swig from his mug. “I’ve heard rumors but I’m not sure.”

Belching loudly, the first man responded, “I doubt it. Have you seen him and that sword of his? Guy’s way too strong for something like that to take him out.”

“I dunno man, I haven’t seen him on that big ass bike of his for a while.”

Placing the cup she had been cleaning on the counter, Tifa tried to recall the last time Cloud had ridden Fenrir. Three…no, four weeks. Maybe even five. Maybe he just wasn’t getting any business…? No, that couldn’t be it. Just today she forwarded a potential client to his phone. But if that was the case, why wasn’t he out doing his job?

Pushing aside the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she turned her attention to a patron that was calling to her. She’d ask him about it while he helped clean after the shop closed.

\-------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the night seemed to drag on for Tifa, but she perked up a bit when Cloud came strolling down the stairs about an hour before close. He usually came down around this time to help with any unruly bar-goers who may give her a hard time when it was time to leave. She could usually take care of them herself, but when they were especially persistent, all Cloud has to do was threaten to take out his sword and they would usually leave without any fuss. With a start, she realized she couldn’t remember the last time she saw him actually use the Fusion Blade. Could he even lift it anymore?

The two of them worked in silence to clean the mess the late night drunks left them. Cloud looked tired; he always did. Whether it was from the disease or the constant reading he did as he researched the human body and Lifestream, she wasn’t sure. Probably a combination of both, now that she thought about it.  
“Cloud,” her inquisitive voice broke the silence, “I overheard two customers talking about you tonight.”

“Is that so,” He sounded disinterested, which Tifa expected. She turned from the table she was wiping down towards him to see him sitting, taking a break and resting his infected arm on a table. He’d been taking a lot of breaks lately.

Pulling up a chair, she sat across from him at the table. “And it got me thinking about something. You’re not gonna like what I’m about to ask but-” 

“Then don’t ask.” He interrupted her gruffly. In the dimly lit bar, his eyes glowed softly. They weren’t looking at her.

Reaching out, she gently placed her hand on his. She’d grown used to feeling leather and not skin when they brushed by each other on accident; he never took his gloves off anymore. When she spoke, it was soft and concerned, but also strict enough to hopefully warrant a response. “Cloud, when was the last time you took a delivery?”

The soft smile on her face fell into a deeply concerned frown when he stiffened. “I just haven’t gotten any requests that’s all.” He was a terrible liar.

“I forwarded you a potential client earlier today.” He remained silent and she felt his hand curl into a fist.

“Tifa, I…”

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” It wasn’t a question.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, he stood up without a word. For the first time all night, he made eye contact with her and opened his mouth to speak. Apparently second guessing himself, he turned back away from her and simply mumbled “it’s not that bad,” under his breath, as if that would be enough to satiate her. Figuring that would be enough, he went to walk back up the stairs.

“That’s why you’ve been wearing that turtle neck despite the weather being so hot.” She stated in disbelief. “How far has it spread?”

“I’m telling you it’s not that bad-”

“Then go upstairs and show me you can still wield your sword.” She snapped, raising her voice in frustration and fear.

Silence. Uncomfortable silence. Horrendously deafening uncomfortable silence.

“It... it’s my back.” His voice was a barely audible and hoarse whisper. “And my other shoulder. It’s starting to spread to my neck as well.” 

Before she even knew what she was doing, Tifa found herself in front of him, fist firmly planted in the middle of his chest. Briefly, she felt regret when he actually recoiled in pain but that was quickly pushed aside by other emotions. Anger. Fear. Betrayal. Why hadn’t he told her? Over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, she though she may have heard him apologize. As if that would do any good.

“You…you idiot.” Her voice shook and she slowly lowered her fist to her side. “I know you’re built like a SOLDIER but, dammit Cloud, you’re not invincible.” He flinched. There it was. The S word. Even all this time later, Cloud didn’t like talking about his false memories, and she knew it. She had used the word intentionally. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He turned away. “Oh no you don’t.” Tifa growled, grabbing his shoulders and forcibly turning him around. Judging by the look on his face, he was as surprised as she was that she was actually able to do it. Glowering at him, she pointed back towards the seats at the table. His shoulders slumped in defeat and he wordlessly sat back down. 

He kept his head down, but Tifa bore holes into him with her stare as she sat after him. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Tifa too angry to say anything and Cloud seemingly too ashamed at being found out to begin to explain himself. Apparently defeated, he finally sighed and raised his head. 

“I didn’t want to worry you.” He sounded sincere enough. 

“That’s some excuse,” she retorted bitterly. “So what, you were content in not telling me so I would just wake up one day to find you dead?” A flash of guilt sparked in his eyes, and she momentarily felt bad for raising her voice at him.

His frown deepened. “I… I hadn’t thought about it that way.” His voice was seeped in regret, and Tifa was inclined to believe him. When she spoke next, her voice was softer but still had an edge of anger in it.

“You still should’ve told me, I could have helped.”

“Yeah, how?” This time, it was Cloud who raised his voice. His eyes flared. “You don’t have time to baby me- even if you did what’s the point?” Slumping back in his chair, he crossed his arms. “I’m gonna die anyway.” He said it so casually, so nonchalantly. As if it didn’t matter at all. 

“You’re not going to-” She stopped herself midsentence. It’s true that the spread of the stigma had taken longer with him than most people, and that he has been able to keep his strength up because of his Mako treatment and Jenova cells but… Had she really told herself he wouldn’t die? Had she believed herself when she told herself he wouldn't die? 

“I-I don’t know.” She finally admitted. After a moment of silence, she perked up slightly. “I can call up Nanaki, he’s told me so many things they’ve done to help stricken people in Cosmo Canyon.”

“Then let Red take care of the people in Cosmo Canyon.”

“Okay what about Yuffie? Wutai is bound to have herbal remedies-”

“I don’t need her stealing the Materia we’ve worked so hard to collect.”

“Okay Cid then-”

“Too busy studying the effects space had on that piece of Huge Materia.”

“Reeve would-“

“Preoccupied with the WRO and the Turks.”

“Vincent-”

Cloud snorted. “Nice joke.”

“Dammit Cloud!” She stood up and slammed her fist on the table. “Just let me help you!” Pinching the bridge of her nose she turned away from him. “If you want to give up and die, go right on ahead. Take that dumb bike of yours and go die in a field for all I care!” Almost immediately after the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

“I sold Fenrir.” The simplicity and matter-of-fact vibe the statement gave off caught her off guard. 

What? He sold Fenrir? Cloud loved that bike. He had poured so much sweat and time into that damn thing. He had begged her to allow its previous owner a lifetime pass at Seventh Heaven just so he could get his hands on it. It took even longer for him to convince Cid to teach him mechanical skills so he could modify it to his heart’s content.

Turning back towards him, the look of confusion on her face was apparently all Cloud needed to see. For some reason, he laughed a little. “Don’t look so shocked, Tifa. What good is a bike to a dead man?” The joviality left his voice, however. “Without my delivery service, I thought it’d be wise to leave you with a little extra gil.” Satisfied with his answer, and apparently wishing to end the conversation, he stood back up.

Tifa opened her mouth to object, but decided against it. He looked tired. So tired. She cast her gaze downward and sighed. “Cloud, you go to bed. I can finish cleaning myself.” For a second, it looked like he was about to argue with her, but instead he just grunted noncommittally and walked up the stairs to their living quarters. 

Standing deathly still, she sat back down when she heard his door close. Placing her head in her hands, she tried to come to grips that she was much closer to losing her best friend that she had thought.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The following weeks were saturated in what can only be described as uncomfortable understanding between the two of them. Tifa wouldn’t ask about his condition no matter how outwardly in pain he seemed to be, and Cloud wouldn’t complain. As if he would anyway. It pained Tifa to see him struggle to do even little things. His hand would shake uncontrollably when lifting a fork to his mouth and sometimes it got so bad that she actually had to feed him herself. He always objected though, and if she did he didn’t talk to her for at least 24 hours after.

One day, before the Seventh Heaven officially opened for the night, Tifa answered a knock on the door and was confronted with a man in a nice suit, not unlike what the Turks would wear. “Is Cloud Strife here?” He asked simply.

“Depends on who’s asking.” She was suspicious of anyone who may have ties to Shinra, even if Rufus had passed away. To her surprise, the man laughed.

“He told me you might act like this. I’m sure if you would just show him to the door he’d verify I mean have ill intentions.”

Squinting her eyes suspiciously, she turned away and called for her companion. A moment passed and she heard him reply and his door creak open. She looked back towards the man. “Come in,” she offered carefully, moving away to let the stranger in. “Have a seat, he should be down in a minute.” The man sat down and Tifa leaned against the bar counter, keeping a careful eye on him. The two stayed in strained silence.

After a minute or so, the first telltale signs of his descent into the main lobby sounded out. Turning slightly, she frowned at how difficult of a time he had walking down the steps. Taking it one step at a time, and leaning his good-no, not good- his better arm against the handrail as a support. The two exchanged glances and entire conversation played out silently. Without even asking, he had already rejected her offer to help.

He reached the bottom of the stairwell, and limped over to where the man was sitting. He stood up and help out a hand. “Mr. Strife, I presume.”

“Just call me Cloud.” He replied coldly, ignoring his guest’s gesture. He motioned back towards the stairs with his head. “It’s upstairs.” The man grunted in acknowledgment, lowering his hand. “First room on the left. I’ll be right up.” His companion nodded and headed up to the second floor.

“Cloud what’s going on?” He ignored her, not even glancing towards her direction as he stumbled slowly up the stairs. “Hmph.” No use following him, he would just yell at her not to butt in where she’s not needed. But still, what could that guy want that Cloud was keeping in his room?

She wouldn’t find out until after the bar opened for the night. It was a weekday, so it was relatively slow compared to usual and as a result was able to keep a closer eye on the stairs than she usually would have been able to. She was tending to a customer when the stranger in the suit came waltzing down the stairs. Cursing inwardly that she was busy, she cast him an inquisitive look as he opened the door. Knowing what she didn’t, the man smiled and walked out into the still Edge night.

Cloud came down at his usual time, and instead of taking his usual seat at the counter, sat in the corner of the room. His eyes glowed as he silently watched its patrons.

When the Seventh Heaven was finally cleared out for the night, Tifa made a beeline for Cloud. “Cloud what-”

“-it’s nothing to worry about.” He raised a hand meekly in attempt to stop her.

“You had a guy who looked like he worked for the Turks up in your room for like, what, two hours?” She sounded accusatory. He had always kept things to himself, but he’d been especially quiet about personal matters since his little secret had been found out. Being broody is one thing, but it was actually starting to hurt a little.

“First off,” Cloud corrected her, “he doesn’t work for the Turks. He’s a weapon’s appraiser.”

Weapon’s appraiser…? He wasn’t… was he?

“Second off, it’s really none of your business what I’m-”

“You’re not selling the sword.” She stated coldly, cutting him off. He reeled back slightly, apparently surprised at the aggressiveness in her voice. When he finally came to grips with what she said, he cursed under his breath, realizing that he had said too much.

After a moment, he finally spoke. “You can’t stop me.” His voice was low, and almost threatening. He was right, under normal circumstances she couldn’t. Lucky for her, this wasn’t normal circumstances. Crossing her arms, she allowed a smug grin to cross her face. Cloud raised a brow in confusion. 

“If I’m remembering a previous conversation of ours correctly,” she said coyly, tracing her fingers over the smooth surface of the table as she walked towards Cloud. “You can’t even pick up the Fusion Sword anymore, can you?” That struck a nerve. His eyes narrowed and his face contorted into a scowl. “So, who’s to stop me from, say, shipping it out to Barret? You know, all the way out in Kalm?” She stood just off to the side, leaning on the table with one elbow.

“You wouldn’t.” He growled.

“Oh but I would.” And she meant it. She wasn’t going to let him sell that sword if it was the last thing she did. She felt slightly amused when fear sparked in his eyes. He could tell she wasn’t messing around.

“Why does it even matter?” He almost snarled the question. The sly grin Tifa had dropped to a thin frown. She was hoping he would have just given up at the notion of shipping it out to Kalm.

“It… it doesn’t.” She lied. “There’s just no reason for you to sell it is all.” Hopefully, he would buy that. 

He didn’t. “In that case, let me do whatever I damn well please with my sword.” He emphasized that it was his sword, as if to sway Tifa towards his line of thinking.

“You spent so much time working on it with Barret and Cid, it would be a shame to see it just gather dust in someone’s collection.”

“As if that’s not what would happen if it stayed here.” His voice was raised just slightly. “Besides, he’s offering up a pretty nice sum of gil for it.”

“How do you think Barret and Cid would feel? Having all their hard work thrown away?” Tifa was feeling heated now, and she tried to keep her voice level.

“They can just build new stuff.” He body tensed and his eyes narrowed, voice rising still. “Just butt out-”  
“Dammit I just want something to remember you by!” She yelled at him, voice wavering. 

“And I just want to be able to die without feeling guilty about leaving you nothing!” He yelled back at her, jumping to his feet. Well, he tried to jump to his feet, but in his weakened state he instead fell to the ground. Kneeling, he gripped his bad arm and inhaled sharply through gritted teeth. 

“Cloud!” Tifa gasped and kneeled next to him. His head was lowered, blond locks blocking his eyes. With horrifying realization, Tifa recognized that he was having a Geostigma attack. Denzel would have them, getting progressively worse as he neared the end of his life. He had described them as having nails driven into his head, over and over again. Denzel had only been afflicted in his head and neck. Cloud on the other hand…

His head snapped up suddenly and for the first time, she was able to see the look of torture on his face. Briefly, before he squeezed his eyes tight in agony, she was able to see his eyes. They would change from blue to a greenish color back to blue. That didn’t faze her as much as the slitting and widening of his pupils. She was brought back to when she was standing in front of Denzel, chained to the Meteor Fall monument, under the dark influence of Kadaj. 

Denzel’s Geostigma attacks almost always happened in his sleep… is this what he experienced too?

Knowing there was nothing she could do, she simply stayed by his side rubbing his back and speaking soft words of encouragement. “It’s okay… It’s almost over. You can beat this. I’m here for you.”

The episode couldn’t have lasted more than a minute and a half, but to her it felt like hours. She could only imagine what it felt like to Cloud. His eyes opened and she was relieved to see the usual Mako blue eyes she was so used to. A spark of fear alit in those eyes but quickly teetered out as a wave of exhaustion overcame him. His body relaxed and he fell against her chest. She adjusted him and herself so that she was sitting comfortably, cradling his upper torso in the nook of her arm. His eyes were closed, peacefully this time.

She felt something dripping down her hand and saw the telltale blackish brown pus. She glanced over at his glove and saw it seeping through the leather seams. At the same moment, she became aware of how damp his back was and concluded that it wasn’t sweat.

“I’m sorry,” She was caught off guard by his low groan. “I never… wanted you to see me like this.” His breathing was shallow and labored.

She hushed him. “Don’t strain yourself.” 

“I’m fine.” His eyes opened halfway, and the usual flare in his eyes was subdued. He was exhausted. “Of all the times…” He forced himself to laugh, but it came out more as a wheeze than anything.

She didn’t want to ask this. She really, really didn’t. But she had to know. Whether it was for his sake or her own selfish needs, she needed to know. Her voice was soft and scared. “How many times a day does this happen?”

“Three or four.” There was no hesitation, as if he had expected the question. “If I’m lucky, only two.”

Tifa’s voice caught in her throat. Every now and again she would hear a loud thump from up in Cloud’s room but she never would have guessed…

“You should have told me.” She eventually squeaked.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” There was that excuse again. He shifted in her lap and attempted sit himself up. The areas Cloud’s back had been touching were caked in black. But she really didn’t care.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he worked his upper body upwards and leaned up against the wall. His breathing sounded better, but was still labored. His eyes closed again and he sighed.

Tifa had thought he nodded off to sleep when he suddenly spoke. “You… really don’t want me to sell the sword, do you?”

Her heart skipped a beat. No point lying anymore, she figured. “Yeah.” She scooted over to the wall and sat with her legs tucked under her chin. “With the Buster Sword over in the church, your Fusion Sword is really all that’s left.” He exhaled through his nose to acknowledge that he heard her.

“I-I know you didn’t want me to but I told the others. How, you’ve gotten worse that is.” She was expecting an objection of some sort, but it never came. She continued. “And… we started talking. About ways that we could remember you. Like what we did with Aerith.” He nodded meekly.

“And we finally all came to an agreement we all liked.” She smiled at him, even if he couldn’t see her. “We were all going to take a part of the sword.”

“There’s only six parts.” Cloud interjected immediately. “And seven of you.”

Laughing, Tifa replied, “Yeah, we realized that too. But… Barret said that he would like to move back to Edge eventually. He said that as long as I keep my part safe, he’d be okay with sharing it.”

“…What part will you be taking?” He asked after a moment of silence.

Moderately surprised he cared enough to ask, she stumbled over her words before finally answering. “Everyone said that I should take the main part.”

“First Tsurugi.” He muttered. It had a name? She had never known that. His eyes finally opened and he attempted to stand up, but fell back down before he was able to straighten his back out.

“Here, let me help you.” She squatted next him, allowing him to throw his arm over her shoulder. “Ready? Here we go.” Moving together carefully, they managed to stand up. He was really light, but she pushed the concern aside.

They slowly made their way towards the stairwell in silence. Taking it one step at a time, they eventually made it to the second the floor. Tifa helped him into his room and switched the light on. Helping him onto his bed, she glanced over at his desk. It was a mess of papers and books. With a start, she realized there was coat of dust resting upon them. Had he given up trying to find a cure?

A groan brought her back to reality. Cloud was leaning forward, untying his boots. Before she had an opportunity to offer help, he kicked both of them off and carefully brought his legs onto the bed.

“Do you need help changing your bandages?” She offered, noticing the roll of gauze on his bedside table. Seeing as he had been hiding the attacks from her, she couldn’t help but wonder when the last time they had properly been applied was. In the corner of her eye, she suddenly noticed black stains on the hardwood floor. Her heart sank.

As if processing her question, he didn’t reply right away. “Sure.” He finally mumbled, pleasantly surprising Tifa. He moved over in the bed slightly and she sat down next to him. Moaning in discomfort slightly, he began pulling off his turtleneck. As he lifted it up over his head, she noticed the fibers of his shirt sticking to his back- connected by the black mucus that seeped from him earlier. Taking off his gloves, he threw everything to the ground.

Tifa was able to see the full extent of his stigma for the first time after she removed his old bandages. His arm was completely covered in black pores and welts, some still seeping pus. Although it hadn’t spread to his chest, it was creeping up the front of his neck, looking like poisonous tree branches. Glancing at his back, she recoiled slightly. It was almost completely black, whether it be from the infection or the caked on pus from earlier. His opposite shoulder wasn't the most concentrated area of disease on that side of his body, but it was creeping down his arm. There were wayward splotches of the stigma everywhere on that limb.

“When was the last time you washed your wounds?” She wondered aloud.

“I… I don’t have the strength to stand for long periods of time.” He sounded ashamed. “I usually kneel over the tub to wash my hair but that’s it. I haven’t taken a real shower in a few weeks.”

Nodding in understanding, Tifa told him she’d be right back. Running down the stairs, she picked up a metal bucket from under the counter. Cleaning it thoroughly, she ran back upstairs, put it under the shower head and filled it with hot water. She added a dab of soap, grabbed a few small towels and walked back to Cloud’s room.

Confusion lined his face as she re-entered, followed by understanding. Tifa moved his medical gauze from the night stand to the foot of his bed and placed the bucket there instead. “This might be hot.” She warned, dipping a towel into the water.

He inhaled sharply as she pressed the wet towel against his back. “It stings.” He hissed.

“It’s going to, there’s nothing I can do about it.” She gingerly glided the cloth over his lower back, removing what she could only imagine to be weeks’ worth of mucus and grime. Cloud, originally tense at the stinging sensation the soap brought, eventually relaxed his body and even sighed in content. 

“That feels so…. Nice.” He almost hummed the words and Tifa smiled. The white towel as stained black now, and she tossed it to the side. Grabbing another cloth, she dumped it in the water and continued to work her way up his back.

“Remember that night we spent together in the Golden Saucer?” He inquired suddenly.

“Yeah, of course I do. Why do you ask?” She moved up to his shoulders and he rolled them in bliss.

“I really don’t know.” He admitted. “I guess I’m just trying to remember all the good things before I go.” Tifa frowned and paused momentarily, before resuming the rubbing motion. “I guess I’m also trying to go without any regrets.”

“Regrets?” She was now on her third towel, cleaning the arm with the splotches.

“Yeah.” He stated simply, pushing a strand of hair out of his eye. “Remember that ride we took around the Saucer?”

“Yeah, what about it?” Onto the more infected arm.

“I remember… you had wanted to tell me something, but couldn’t find the words at the time.” Despite saying he wanted to remember the happy times, he sounded sad as he spoke.

Tifa froze. He remembered that? It was two years ago and he still remembered that? “Sometimes I wonder what you were going to say.” He continued idly.

“Cloud, I-” She honestly had no idea how to respond that. Should she tell him? Did it even matter anymore?

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He stopped her. “There are things I haven’t told you either.” What was he talking about…?

“Under the Highwind, right before the final fight with Sephiroth. There were so many things I wanted to tell you. That I still want to tell you.” He laughed awkwardly, and she suddenly remembered. Meteor just over the horizon, the soft grass under her, Cloud’s comforting presence as they faced an uncertain future.

He hung his head low. “And now that I’m running out of time, I still can’t seem to find the words.”

Tifa placed the towel in the bucket and let it hang over the side and moved from behind Cloud to sitting in front of him, a stern look on her face. “Then don’t tell me.” She stated simply. Cloud lifted his head and looked at her, confused.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me what you wanted to say.” She repeated. “Just forget all about it.” She smiled sincerely. “And I’ll forget all about what I was going to tell you. And then…”

“And then what?”

“And then we can tell each other when we finally see each other again in the Lifestream.” The confusion on Cloud’s face gave way to understanding and he nodded.

“Yeah, I think I like that.”

“Good.” She grabbed the medical supplies and began wrapping him up. They didn’t speak as she worked to patch him up. Although she wasn’t able to bandage his back, she made sure his neck, shoulder, and upper and lower arms were sufficiently wrapped.

When she was all set and done, Cloud laid his head down comfortably on his pillows. She picked up the towels she had tossed to the floor and put them in the bucket. She glanced over at him on her way out of the room and was glad to see him breathing steadily, apparently fast asleep.  
She turned away, and for the second time he startled her by talking. Although this time, he spoke quietly and actually did sound like he was going to fall asleep at any moment. “Thank you for the help, Tifa.”

She smiled at him. “You’re welcome, Cloud.” She flicked off his light and closed the door behind her and found herself looking forward to tomorrow for the first time in a very long time.


End file.
